A Letter a Day: George and Angelina
by j1ack
Summary: Angelina had to go away, so the couple writes each other a letter a day.  Please R&R.
1. Day 1

_August 22_

_Dear George,_

_America is great! There's so much to do and see! My British accent isn't even noticeable among all of the people here at the World Cup. There are wizards and witches from every corner of the globe here. As a reporter, I get box seats with Minister of Magic! The whole thing is so terribly exciting! I'm so glad the prophet decided to assign me to this year's Cup. Although I do miss you a lot, don't get me wrong._

_A rather funny thing happened earlier today. A crazy fan (we never found out who) somehow managed to get where the Holyhead Harpies were storing their brooms. Next thing anyone knows, they were reduced to piles of ash on the floor. Gwenog Jones came in the next morning and threw an absolute fit, although she didn't let anyone capture her hissy fit on camera. Needless to say, security (especially around the brooms) has tightened exponentially. The Harpies are having brooms shipped in from London; they should be here by tomorrow, which luckily is the time of their next game. I am personally rooting for the Harpies this time around._

_Hopefully there won't be any matches that last too long; I don't think I can spend five months away from you._

_Love,_

_Angelina_

* * *

><p><em>August 22<em>

_Dear Angelina,_

_Hey, how is America? I know you've always wanted to go there, and this is your perfect opporotunity! Working with the Prophet does have its advantages, for you at least, but your fabulous job leaves me at home with Ron. Remind me again, how long is it socially acceptable to house family members who have a job, but don't have enough money to buy a house? I thought that once I was out of Mum's, I could be away from Ron's whining forever. My dream has officially been smashed._

_The shop is going just fine, although we did have an incident with the love potions. Ron, the idiot that he is, was restocking the display case and ended up toppling the entire thing over. Everyone in the store ended up falling desperately in love with the first person (or thing) that they saw. Ron fell head over heels in love with a shard of glass. This gets me thinking that he might be a little masochistic at heart. Luckily I keep a gas mask, among other things, under the counter for such disasters. I had to lock the store down for a few hours while I administered the antidote. Of course by then St. Mungo's was on the scene and getting in the way, which didn't help much. The only thing they were good at was giving me more of the antidote when I ended up running out. Such amateurs._

_Back to the more important of us two, how is the Quidditch World Cup? You know that the only one that I have ever been to is the one in my sixth year at Hogwarts. That particular one doesn't carry fond memories, though. Death Eaters ended up crashing the party. I hear that Ireland is doing really poorly. You've got to tell me the scoop before it gets to the papers, hun. Married couples don't keep secrets, you know._

_I know you must be having a lot of fun, but I want you to come home. I miss you, even though you haven't even been gone twenty-four hours._

_Love,_

_George_


	2. Day 2

August 23

Dear George,

First of all, no matter how annoying your brother may be, he is free to stay in our house until he has the money to get a place of his own. I have no idea how many times that we have discussed this, but you can't just dump your own family out on the street.

That incident with the love potions was absolutely hilarious! The only thing that I would change is that I would be there, and instead of Ron falling for a shard of glass, he would fall for you. Now that would be gross realistically, but it would be a funny thing to tell the kids.

I will sneak a little something to you about the cup before I publish my piece on it. So no magical enhancements like taking potions, before or during the games for any of the players is allowed, right? Well, there is a rumor that some of the players from one of the US teams are taking muggle steroids. These drugs give you a "physical high," but with disastrous consequences. Of course, the officials haven't been checking the players' for muggle drugs, but as soon as they heard about the rumor, they have been checking all of the players before they take off. Isn't that something?

The cup is really exciting, but it would be a lot more fun if you were here. I miss you.

Love,

Angelina

* * *

><p>August 23<p>

Dear Angelina,

That's so cool that you get to sit with the Minister of Magic during the matches. If I were you, I don't know how I could concentrate on writing a story about what you were describing; I would be too enthralled with my surroundings to even notice what was happening. The bottom line is that you are better than I could ever be at what you do. I'm just glad that you are having fun with it.

The thing with the Harpies' broomsticks doesn't surprise me; we did that all the time at Hogwarts. Well, the guys did anyway. I don't know if I should be telling you this in a letter, but Fred, Wood, and I (and Harry when he got older, and Ron when he joined the team) always played pranks on the other team to psych them out before the game started. The other teams did the same to us. One time we went into the boys' locker room to discover that the shower heads wouldn't stop attacking us unless we started to sing, "Hufflepuff is the greatest house, they always win at everything." To get them back we jinxed their brooms to only fly upside down. Now that was an interesting practice to watch.

I love you. I miss you. I don't know how else to put it.

Love,

George


	3. Day 3

August 24

Dear George,

I can understand why you did not even tell Alicia, Katie, or me about the pranking. As you know me now, I would have joined in with you, but all of the girls back then (yes, including me) were too uptight about everything that the world had to offer to join in on the fun. But still, you could have at least told me earlier! And don't you dare tell me that the topic never came up; you could have just brought it up. The same situation applies here as it did with the time that the time that you accidentally turned all of the tap water into melted chocolate. The excuse that it just never came up isn't going to cut it this time either.

I would have written to you about the Harpies game yesterday, but it hasn't finished yet. Most people are overreacting and saying that the game is going to go over the five month record, but I of course know better than that. It will probably end in a couple of days; the current score is 120 to 80, Harpies. They are playing against Australia, whose seeker is mediocre at best. The Harpies seeker actually got hit with a bludger a few minutes into the game, which has put her out for a few days, or at least that is what the healers said. The Harpies' replacement is about the same skill level as Australia's, so now we have a match that is most likely going to go on for as long as the Harpy seeker is out. And before you start to worry about my sleeping patterns, the Prophet sent a few more reporters out, so we can monitor the match in shifts.

I have a sudden craving for a hot tub. Too bad they are in short supply, although I think one of the secretaries of the Prime Minister had her tent custom made to accommodate such things. Perhaps I will have to look into that. For reporting purposes, of course.

I wish you were here, or I was there. Either way, we wouldn't have to be apart. I love you.

Love,

Angelina

* * *

><p>August 24<p>

Dear Angelina,

Wow. That's all I have to say. Players of the noble sport of Quidditch have resulted to Muggle forms of cheating? I am appalled. I am horrified. I am disgusted. I am dismayed. I am not going to go on anymore because I might take up several pages of how I feel about how incredibly stupid those players are! They disgrace and dishonor Quidditch players everywhere! The whole situation is, as I'm sure you have imagined, completely ridiculous. You will have to keep me updated on if anyone gets disqualified. I hope they do. They were obviously stupid enough to cheat in such a blatant and nonsensical manner.

The shop is as busy as ever, with school starting in a week. Our best sellers this year have been the puking pastilles and, shockingly, the pygmy puffs. I never actually thought that those little multicolored little balls of fluff would sell. We didn't actually have the facilities to handle live animals until a few weeks ago. I was going to scrap the idea of the Pygmy Puffs entirely, but Ron talked me into it. Well, it was Fred more than Ron. I don't think I could ever forget him obsessing over those little dust mops like a fourteen year old girl. I never actually understood why he always insisted keeping them. They were selling moderately well, but I always said that they weren't worth the time and hassle. But Fred always said, "George, they might seem like a huge hassle now, but I predict that these brightly-colored-pain-in-the-buts will someday be our biggest sellers." Now I don't remember Fred being particularly good at divination, but I guess there are some things that people just know. I still wish that I had known what would have happened at the Final Battle. Fred would have loved to rub it in my face that he was right.

I wish you were here. I really need help with the shop. No, I'm just kidding! You know that you mean so much more to me than your occasional hours that you decide to help me out. I love you.

Love,

George


	4. Day 4

_August 25_

_Dear Angelina,_

_I just picked up a copy of _The Prophet_ that Errol dropped by this morning. If that bird lives another year, I swear that I will have Dad take him to the Ministry to see if his life has somehow been magically lengthened. I'm actually quite surprised that the bird got here on time today, with _this morning's _paper. You know how it is. We usually get the edition that Errol was carrying a few days late because of his inability to be a bird. Well anyway, when I picked up the paper I saw an article on the front page about the World Cup, and guess who it was by? None other than Angelina Johnson! I didn't know if you knew, but congratulations! Of course, _I _already knew everything in the article, thanks to your gracious letter writing, but I was happy to read the entire thing from start to finish!_

_Do you remember that toy store that was going to go in across from our location in Diagon Alley? Well they were supposed to open today, but somehow an entire shipment of what they call "Real Ponies" decided that they would start biting the hand that fed them. Literally. So these things are supposed to be exactly like real horses for those of us who can't afford such things (they also come in unicorn, Pegasus, and thestral). You can feed them, talk to them, and ride them, but they never poop or misbehave, and you can just turn them off with a flick of your wand when you're done. This particular faulty batch of Real Ponies decided to start running amok like mustangs racing across America. It made quite a wreck of their almost-opened shop. Our shop didn't suffer any damage, but if you could see _their_ shop, you would feel as bad as I do for them._

_I hope that that Harpy seeker gets well soon. Who cares about Australia? Ding, ding, ding! Yes, the correct answer is nobody! If they win the Cup, I might just do something rash. You know, because I would have lost that bet with Ron. Why he can even consider that Australia has a bat's chance in a hippogriff's cage against the Harpies is beyond my realm of thinking._

_Hope you found your hot tub. Please come home soon. I miss you._

_Love,_

_George_

* * *

><p><em>August 25<em>

_Dear George,_

_Although you might think that seeing the Pygmy Puffs at the top of the selling charts is shocking, let me tell you, from a girl's point of view, it's actually more shocking that they weren't selling more sooner! Pygmy Puffs are more manageable than a dog, cat, owl, rat, or toad, and they are definitely cuter! They also come in a variety of colors, which makes them all the more enticing. It's actually quite coincidental that you write me about Pygmy Puffs, considering what happened yesterday._

_I was totally serious about sneaking into that Prime Minister's secretary's tent to find a hot tub. So yesterday after I wrote you, I used my skills as a part-time ninja to sneak into her tent, and guess what I found? Pygmy Puffs! She had a table, similar to the one you have in your shop, with a little glass fence with no top. There were about ten or twelve of them of various colors scurrying around happily, but that wasn't the only weird thing that I found in her tent. Next to the table was a non-descript wooden trunk. Now at this point my investigative instinct totally kicked in, and I opened the lid to find bottles and bottles of Amortentia. As I know that you didn't pay much attention in school, I'll save you the trouble of having to look it up. Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. As to what Melanie Sheen was doing with such vast quantities of it in her tent, I have no idea. After my hot tub soak, (you didn't think I would leave without getting what I came for, did you?) I turned that little tip over to a gossip columnist friend of mine who was sent out here to unearth the dirty little secrets of the players by her boss. She's been trying for weeks, but she still hadn't found anything. I know a secretary of the Prime Minister's secrets aren't the same as a world famous Quidditch star's secrets, but I think her boss will be happy quite the same._

_I hope this match will be over soon. Not only will I get to see you, but I'll also get a massive bonus! No, I'm kidding. You will always be worth more than any amount of gold to me._

_Love,_

_Angelina_


	5. Day 5

_August 26_

_Dear George,_

_You really shouldn't be so hard on Errol. How many years has he delivered messages for you on time? The majority of a lot! (Yes I realize most of that time he was wandering around the wilderness unconsience, but at least he was trying!) Yes, I realize that we should probably get a new owl, but can we at least give him a nice retirement to spend the rest of his three to five months of life in?_

_I was told that I was going to have a big section for my article, (they told me to write a long article) but they never told me that it was going to be front page! Thanks so much for telling me, George. Now I can rub it in all my less fortunate friends! (kidding)_

_I thought you hated that toy store for moving across the street because you thought it would take away your business? The damage must have been pretty bad for _you _to actually feel _sorry_ for them...wait, you didn't cause that to happen, did you? Because if you did, I'm going to give you one freaking load of scolding George Weasley! How dare you sabatoge the competition! It wasn't even competition; it was a toy store for little children! If you didn't do anything, sorry about the last few lines._

_Anyway, I'm sure that you have already heard about the riots. They started when the score for the Harpies jumped from 160 to 310 in five minutes. Some very violent Australian fans decided to shoot fire into the air above the Harpies' tents in the middle of the night last night. Security ended up stupefing all of them, and they are now on trial for causing public distress, or something like that. I wasn't assigned to the case; my supervisor wanted me on the match._

_The healers say that the seeker for the Harpies will be able to play in a few days. Hopefully she will be able to win this match like it should have been in the first five minutes. Then I'll get to see you!_

_Love, _

_Angelina_

* * *

><p><em>August 26<em>

_Dear Angelina,_

_Wow! That makes so much sense! Thanks for clearing the whole Pygmy Puff issue up for me! (I'm still confused, and probably always will be on how you girls love those little fluff balls)._

_Anyway, loved the story about that secretary Melanie Sheen! Even as a straight guy, _I'm _curious as to what she was doing with all of those Pygmy Puffs and love potion. The Pygmy Puffs you could pass off as a collection, but nobody keeps _that_ much of a powerful love potion just in a trunk lying around._

_Nothing interesting to report around the shop. The most interesting thing that happened today was that this little kid, must have been eleven or twelve, bought about 300 Filibuster's Fireworks from me today. I gave him a funny look, and he just looked up at me and smiled, like he already had some elaborate scheme concocted in his little mind. He probably did. I feel proud to have supplied him with the items he needed to carry out his little plan._

_I can't wait to see you again. Seriously. I might just have to come out there once September hits. There won't be many customers to worry about, so I can spend all of my time with you. I love you._

_Love,_

_George_


	6. Day 6

_August 27_

_Dear Angelina,_

_Yeah, I heard about those rioters! (But to your benefit, I only heard about them a few hours before I opened your letter. You know that you'll always be my number one reporter!) Some fans sure are crazy, especially those Australians! And Ron, of course, as soon as he saw that this bet we had going was not going to go well for him._

_I had this great idea earlier this afternoon! We should sell life-size cannons that shoot glitter, candy, fireworks, and other nonsensical items! I'm betting that they would not only be a great hit for those who enjoy the art of pranking and being mischievous, but also for parties! Just think, glitter cannons! You could set them off, and it would fuel the atmosphere! What do you think? Ron says that they wouldn't sell because we would have to market them so expensively because of the amount of material required to make them, but I think people would be willing to pay a large amount for a _cannon that shoots objects of your choice!_ We could always buy the used cannons off the customers' hands, so we could reuse them! Before we start this line, I want to know what you think about it. Do you think they would be too expensive? Is there a market for seventeenth century Muggle devices that explode magical items?_

_I miss having you around. You always make everything happier. I love you so much._

_Love,_

_George_

* * *

><p><em>August 27<em>

_Dear George,_

_Why you ever sold that little boy all of those fireworks is completely beyond me! As much fun as Filibuster's can be, they can also be quite dangerous. They have a high rate of going off when they aren't supposed to because of their high flammability rate. You of all people should know that. Don't tell me that you forgot about that one time when one went off in your pants during your seventh year when you were trying to sneak three whole crates of them past Umbridge and her little Slytherin minions. Don't try to deny it; I was standing right behind you _and _I helped extinguish your pants._

_The Harpies' seeker is almost back to playing condition. The healers say that she should be back on the field by tomorrow afternoon at around four o'clock. I practically celebrated when I heard the news. Not only has this game been going on for far too long, but I also miss you a lot. If the Harpies win tomorrow, (I expect that they will) you can expect me to be home around ten tomorrow. I've been assigned to some post game interviews with about half of the Australian team, so that's what might be holding me up if I'm late. I've also got a meeting with my editor, so that might drag it out even more. Who knew that coverage of a Quidditch match didn't actually end after the snitch was caught?_

_Anyway, I love you, and I miss you. Hopefully the post-game coverage won't tie me up for too long._

_Love,_

_Angelina_


	7. Day 7

_August 28_

_Dear George,_

_ Harpies won! Finally. That game shouldn't have taken nearly that long, but I guess you do have to give the Australian beaters some props for targeting the one player that they knew could make them loose…_

_ Cannons that shoot glitter… first of all, what in the world made you think of that? That sounds like something Ginny would have made up when she was two years old to accompany her fantasy wedding. I suppose you might sell a few, but if I were you, I would take a few polls first. See what your audience thinks of it; maybe you could even take some preorders. Make sure to include in the poll what the cannons would shoot. Live doves would be good for a wedding, while glitter would be better for a party. Depending on the results of your poll, you can make approximate price estimates based on how many you will be able to mass produce at one time._

_ Anyway, I got half of my interviews over and done with this morning, and allow me to tell you that professional Quidditch players (besides Ginny of course) are… let's just say that their level of sociability is not one to aspire to. I asked one of them how long he had played Quidditch, and he responded to me by sneezing on me. His snot was a variety of colors, varying between fuchsia and turquoise. I had to scourge it to clean it up. Then he just wiped his nose and gave me a blank stare. I wrote down, "Not very long," and continued with the interview. There were so many other stories that if I wrote them all down, it would weigh the owl down too much. I guess I'll just have to tell you once I get back._

_ I miss you a lot. Hopefully I will be able to be back in a few days. Then we can assess the damage you did to the shop, and you can clean it up under my helpful direction._

_ Love,_

_ Angelina_

I put my letter into the envelope, sealed it, and gave it to the waiting tawny owl. It took the letter, peered at it for a few seconds, flapped its wings, and then it was gone.

I waited one hour, then two, then three… I didn't have any more interviews today; they were all tomorrow. A letter from George usually arrived at this time of the day. I watched the seconds tick by on the floating clock on the far wall of my tent. I had kept my tent clean all week, but I guessed the stress had gotten to me. The entire floor was covered in a layer of paper, quills, newspaper, and other bits and bobs that were unrecognizable among the mess. I leaned back in my chair and began to tap my nails on the desk. When would George's letter come?

"I would come in and hug you, but I'm afraid I might impale myself on something."

I looked up and saw a tall man with a shock of red hair at the entrance of my tent.

"George!" I leapt over piles of unorganized stuff and practically knocked him over with my hug.

"I missed you," he whispered into my ear.

"I love you too."


End file.
